Downton Abbey, circa 2013
by sparki111
Summary: Modern Day: Welcome to Downton Abbey - museum, cultural establishment, blah, blah, blah... One morning - the morning of Jimmy Kent's 23rd birthday - he is awoken by a call from Thomas Barrow, who requires his assistance on the day's field trip. And what follows holds the potential to become either Jimmy's worst, or his most wonderful birthday yet! Thomas/Jimmy - just a bit 'o fun!


**Hey people – welcome to the future! I know that many of you have been reading (and hopefully, enjoying) Incredibly Close. Sadly, I have only a few more chapters of that fic to scrawl, and I found myself thinking tonight, "Oh gosh – what do I do when it's o-over…?" So… I started this… thing – um, yeah ;D I know that I'm not usually all for the 'modern day Downton', but I suddenly had the urge to do something a wee bit different. So yes, here it is, and I hope that you all enjoy it – for those IC readers who are hoping for something a little more… shall we say, **_**light-hearted**_**, well, I'd say this one's for you! Keep an eye out for final chapters of Incredibly Close – because I KNOW that you all love Sybbie ;)**

**Sparki: I own nothing (except for OC's)**

* * *

_Hey, you found me. I'm not in right now, but if you leave a message, I'll get back to you. Catch you later!_

*Beep*

"_Jimmy!" _Thomas' voice crackled through the phone. _"Pick up the bloody phone! Jimmy! JIM-MY!"_

With a groan, Jimmy Kent dragged himself across the mattress. The blankets tangled themselves around his legs, and served only to slow his clumsy movements. With fumbling fingers, he pulled to plastic receiver from its hook. Yawning, he brought the phone to his ear.

"Yeah?" he muttered.

"_Jimmy!"_ Thomas sounded relived. _"You need to get down here – now!"_ Although he knew that Thomas couldn't actually see him, Jimmy frowned. "Why?" he ventured, raising a hand to his throbbing temple. "It _is _Wednesday, right?" He was almost certain; however, the alcohol induced cloud in his brain had brewed into a skull-splitting, suicide-inducing migraine overnight, and if somebody had informed him that he had wed a goat, he might have hesitated before disagreeing.

"_Yes, it's Wednesday." _Jimmy frowned once again. "Well, in that case, I'm not coming," he mumbled. "Not today."

"_I wasn't asking," _Thomas half-sighed, half-growled at him. "_Alfred's bloody sick again, and Carson's in a right state." _Jimmy blinked against the pain, already imagining the scene that must have been Downton Abbey that morning. _"We've got two school groups today, and-,"_

"And what?" Jimmy cut in irritably. "Do the tour myself?"

"_No," _Thomas replied slowly. _"I'll do it with you." _Jimmy blinked once again – this time, in surprise. Despite the pain in his temples, he cracked a leering grin. "You?" he spluttered. "Run a guide a tour?" When there was no reply from Thomas' end, Jimmy gave a snort. "I thought you'd swore that you'd never-,"

"_That I'd never guide a tour again, I know." _Thomas sighed, irritated. _"Just pull your lazy arse out of bed, and get here – NOW." _Once again forgetting that Thomas couldn't see him, Jimmy gave a reluctant nod.

"_Jimmy!"_

"Alright!" Jimmy cried, wincing as Thomas' exclamation shattered his brain. "I'll be there." He made to lower the phone, when a sudden, worrying predicament popped into his muddled head. "Uh, Thomas?"

"_What?" _Jimmy grimaced at the older man's tone.

"I… I don't think I can drive," he admitted. He could almost hear Thomas glaring at him.

"_Why not?"_

Jimmy wasn't certain why, but he found himself wishing that he didn't have to answer. It was ridiculous, really; after all, Thomas had suffered through many more hangovers and the-morning-after disasters than Jimmy himself could possibly imagine – this, he knew for a fact. But as he tried to mouth the answer, he felt his cheeks beginning to burn.

"I… I just can't," he muttered finally. He waited for Thomas' answer. After a moment, there was a sigh, and then:

"_Alright. I'll come and pick you up." _

At the thought of _Thomas' _car pulling up outside _his _house with _Thomas_ actually sitting in the bloody driver's seat, looking up at _his_ window and calling _his_ name in that cold, irritated voice made Jimmy's heart thud almost painfully against his ribcage. He cleared his throat.

"O-Okay," he agreed. "Ten minutes, then?"

"_Ten minutes." _There was a sharp clack, and then Thomas was gone. Jimmy dropped the phone on his pillow, and all but fell out of bed. When he felt the cold wooden floorboards smack against his cheek, he suddenly felt as though he might cry.

_Why did I have to go out last night? _he wondered, as he climbed unsteadily to his feet. Given, it had been the night before his birthday, and he was – _wait… WHAT?! _Jimmy brought a hand to his forehead.

_Wednesday… _Jimmy almost screamed.

"I'm working… on my birthday…," Staring at the ceiling, he slowly shook his head. "I'm working… on my bloody birthday!" Angrily, he stamped a foot against the hard floor. "I'm working on my birthday!" It _was _his birthday; he'd only turn twenty-three once. He pointed a finger at the phone in accusation, imagining that the plastic receiver had sudden sprouted black hair and two very blue eyes. _"You _did this to me!" he cried, leaping for the phone. The bed creaked beneath his slight weigh. As his knees suck into the mattress, he gripped the phone, and shook it hard.

"That's why _you _called me!" he screamed at the inanimate object. "Because they knew that I would not say no to you!" Jimmy was almost sobbing; he was so exhausted, and so utterly pissed off. "You… you bastard!" He threw the phone through the air. However, in his delirious state, he'd misjudged the distance, and now, Jimmy watched in despair as the receiver flew across his cluttered bedroom, and out the open window. He groaned, and flopped back upon his bed in misery.

"Why?" he asked aloud. "Why me?" There was a sharp bang against the wall.

"Shut up!" Janette's cry was piercing. Frowning, Jimmy sat up. "_You _shut up!" he retorted childishly. He knew that arguing with his neighbour was pointless; her boyfriend was twice his height, thirty times his width, and therefore, she almost always won these shouting matches. There was another bang.

"Don't make me come in there, Jimmy Kent!" the girl shouted at him through the flimsy wall. "Because you _know _that I will come in there-,"

"Yeah, yeah," Jimmy muttered, just loud enough for Janette to hear. "Don't get your fishnets in a twist." Reluctantly, he dragged himself off the bed. "I'm going!"

"Good!"

Rummaging through the mess that was his bedroom, Jimmy managed to find his uniform. Considering the fact that he and Thomas would be guiding a school tour today, Carson would almost certainly be expecting him to arrive in costume. The livery's jacket was thrown over the end of his bed; the undershirt in his sock and towel draw, and his trousers where hanging from his curtains. Jimmy frowned as he tugged them down, wondering – with only a small part of his person – how on earth they had found their way up there in the first place. Fastening his buttons, he turned and surveyed the damage.

It wasn't really a bedroom – rather, it was a small section of his one room apartment, sectioned off by a large length of cloth that he and Daisy had found at the local second-hand joint down the street. _She _thought it was wonderful, to see it hanging across his house; Jimmy thought it was a joke. The only part of the room that had actually come with its own door was the bathroom, and even then, the lock only worked on really, _really _good days.

Once respectfully clothed in his ridiculous uniform, Jimmy pushed aside the giant curtain, and stepped into his kitchen, and his lounge room, and his dining room. The small, twelve inch screen that sat at the end of his table still buzzed with the morning's news. Jimmy clicked it off without a second glance. He pulled his shoes from beneath the table; ordinary converse, scuffed from severe overwear. If he didn't roll up the too-long trousers, Carson wouldn't notice that the tour guide had ditched the doe-doe dress shoes that gave his little toe a migraine. Jimmy wasn't hungry; last night's feast still churned within his belly. Grabbing his half-charged mobile from the bench, he hurried towards the door.

As he stepped into the hallway, Janette's door opened. Her purple hair dripped with condensation from her recent shower, and she was yet to apply her heavy metal eye makeup. She turned to him, and fixed him with a questioning gaze. "Did you chuck your phone out the window?" she asked with a frown.

"Why would you think that?" Jimmy mumbled. In response, Janette held up Jimmy's mangled receiver. "Some guy in a red Volvo got the wrong apartment." Jimmy sighed, and plucked the ruined phone from her manicured grasp. "Thanks, Jan," he mumbled.

* * *

Thomas glanced at his watch.

_Ten to nine. Not good._

Leaning against the passenger side of his battered red Volvo, he glanced up at the dump in which Jimmy lived. He tapped the toe of his shoe irritably against the concrete. Thomas knew that Jimmy wasn't in the habit of frequenting the local pub; after New Year's Eve's shenanigan, the young man tended to avoid anything that required him to endure a serious alcohol intake. However, Thomas also knew that, on the rare occasions that his friend _did _tip himself up and over the edge, he would rather spend his day in the sour company of Mr. Carson. He knew what to expect of the ten minute drive ahead; awkward silence, off-hand comments that held absolutely no relevance to life in general, and a faint whiff of vodka.

Then again, Thomas reasoned silently, awkward silences were not foreign to the pair. Even on the almost never occurring occasion that they both ended up drunk, together, at the same time, there was something strange between the two. Even with the laughter and snorting and the vomit, there was something of a tension in the air. Thomas frowned.

"You missed." Thomas glanced up from the chewing gum-stained concrete, to see Jimmy making his slow way from the front entrance, across the parking lot. He was hastily dressed in his tour guide uniform – the ridiculous, loathed footman livery. In his hand, he held the destroyed receiver that Thomas had, only moments ago, thrown back through one of the windows. "You got my next door neighbour." Unceremoniously, Jimmy let the phone fall to the ground. Thomas allowed his lip to quirk into a slight smile. "Should've known it was yours," he muttered, and pulled the door open for the younger man. Jimmy stood stock still for a moment, watching Thomas almost expectantly. Thomas frowned, and motioned toward the door.

"Get. In." After a beat, Jimmy sighed, and shuffled towards the Volvo. As Thomas watched, he lowered himself into the worn seat. Resting his head in his hands, he let Thomas swing the door shut. As he did, the older man frowned.

As the old Volvo chugged down the street, the sky, which only moments ago, had looked warm and inviting, began to turn grey and turbulent. Thomas glanced out the window, grimacing at the cold clouds. "Beautiful day we're in for," he muttered to himself. From where he sat in the passenger seat, Jimmy snorted. Thomas glanced at him questionably. After a moment, Jimmy shrugged.

"At least it's just a tour," he decided aloud. "No bloody field trip, no bloody bus ride, no…," His words trailed into nothing, as he caught the grimace on Thomas' face. He frowned. "What?" Thomas fixed his pale eyes upon the road, clutching the wheel tightly.

"I lied," he admitted. He could almost hear Jimmy bristling.

"_What?"_ the young man screeched. Thomas' grimace grew more severe.

"It _is _a field trip." Jimmy's eyes widened.

"With a bus?" Thomas nodded mutely.

"With a bus." Jimmy crashed his head back against the seat. "This is the single most terrible day of my bloody life," he sighed. Slowly, he glanced at Thomas. "I hate you," he added, almost as an afterthought.

* * *

**So yeah… there is the beginning of this craziness. I would really appreciate some feedback – constructive criticism is welcome; but hear me say **_**constructive **_**;D Holidays are over *sigh* and therefore, updates will, unfortunately, not be as regular as I would like. However, I promise that I will try my very hardest :D Happy FanFictioning!**


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